Satellite
by AngelWing1138
Summary: What is with this town? Every time I win it feels like losing. We were never gonna fit in, I was a mixed up kid and you were my sanity.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello world of Durarara! fanfiction! I am a total newb when it comes to writing for these characters, and so I first wanted to ask that you treat me well. Also, I hope that you all enjoy my take on this story. I have decided to change around some parts of the original storyline so that my own story can be told and told well. So, we have some shifts. Also, this will be what I call a 'slow, developing story'. Meaning that it will take its sweet time with developing anything. It's definitely taking the roundabout way to whatever anyone wants to happen. As well, there will be romance in here, though definitely not right now and not for quite some time coming. It will be a journey you and I can take together, and I hope you enjoy the journey! So please enjoy my first DRRR! fanfiction, and here's to future chapters!

Disclaimer: Durarara! belongs to its respective copyright owners.

* * *

Mother had started to cry a lot lately.

He noticed it when he was home sick from school. She had just tucked him in, saying soft nonsense words and telling him to sleep as she pressed his teddy bear in his arms, when the phone suddenly started to shrilly ring. After quickly kissing his forehead, she had left her six-year-old son to answer the phone, only half-shutting his door. He had been half awake during the conversation, and had started to drift off when she went into her room. He fell asleep to the muffled sound of her sobs.

After that, it had become more commonplace to hear Mother cry. Father would call sometime in the early evening to tell Mother that he would be late, and Mother's expression changed. It always reminded him of one of those porcelain dolls girls liked to collect; permanently slightly smiling, as if expected to look pleased by something but never sure as to what it was. During the day Mother would be a doll, moving as if on ball-joints, and then when he went to bed and Father still wasn't back from work, Mother would go into her room and cry.

Father had not been home a lot lately.

He noticed it before he had gotten sick and Mother had started to cry. It had been past his bedtime when Father finally came back from the office, looking tired and what Mother called 'impossible'. He ate a bit of cold dinner, watched television for an hour and then unfolded the futon so he could sleep. He had been gone in the morning when he'd woken up to Mother's gentle goading.

After that, it had become more commonplace for Father to be gone. He rarely spoke to Mother and only distractedly patted his head whenever he showed him something he had done in school. He started to expect the phone calls more and more and his Father less and less as days turned to weeks, weeks to months. He thought that if this continued, would he forget what Father looked like? When he asked Mother this very innocent question, Mother started to cry in front of him.

He wanted Mother to stop crying. He wanted Father to come home more.

He wanted things to return to how they used to be.

The day everything changed started out just like days had started for the last few months. Father was already gone to work, leaving Mother to wake him up and get him ready for school. He ate his soggy cereal, his shorts hanging over his knees in their baggy manner, his T-shirt a size too big because Mother said 'he'd grow into it eventually'. He flinched in surprise when his mother ran her slim fingers, calloused from handling spades for the garden and wooden rolling pins and coarse laundry for so many years, through his short black hair. When he looked up at her, he saw that she had a distant look in his eyes, her porcelain doll smile on her lips.

"Everything's going to be okay, sweetie."

When he had come home from school his Mother was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea before her. She was looking at what seemed to be a specific spot on the wall very intently, and he did not wish to disturb her. So, like the quiet, obedient child he was, he crept through the kitchen to go to his room, closing the door silently behind him. He stayed in his room doing his homework, working on assignment sheets his teachers had given him for that day. It was only when his stomach was growling and the sun was halfway gone from the sky that he thought he could leave his room.

When he opened the door, everything was very quiet and very dark. Now, he was not a frightful child by nature, but the eeriness of the silence and darkness combined caused a tingle of fear to crawl down his spine. Carefully, making sure not to make too much noise in case Mother was sleeping or crying, he walked to the kitchen so that he could grab something to eat. Yet when he slid the door open, all thoughts of food left him.

In fact, all thoughts left him.

He could only stare at the bloodied bodies of Father and Mother sprawled over the floor, the kitchen knife Mother often used to cut up meat for dinner laying innocently on the floor beside Mother's hand.

Finally, after what felt like forever and ever and ever, thought returned to him. And as thought returned to him, so did his voice.

"At least Mother won't cry anymore."

* * *

He had been found in the morning sitting in his room with his clothes neatly folded and his futon made up where it was supposed to go. When asked if he had seen what had happened, he did not say anything and only shook his head. He was then taken into police custody.

When none of his family came to collect him from the station to take control of raising him, they put him in a foster institution, where people would find loving families for him. However, he had heard about foster homes before from a classmate who was in one, and he did not like the sound of it. So as soon as lights were out for the night, he gathered the things he needed into his single backpack, quietly got dressed and left the building through the window. He had managed to sneak onto the back of a truck at a gas station he had found, and once he was settled, he had fallen asleep.

When he woke up, the truck was not moving and there was light peeking in through the cracks in the back door. He did not want to be caught by the driver, so he waited until he could not hear the man mumbling to himself near the vehicle to safely slip out with his backpack. When he ran far enough away from the truck and its driver, he thought it was best for him to take in his surroundings.

What greeted him was amazing and terrifying.

Buildings as tall as the sky surrounded him, and there were millions and millions of people all around. Some looked like his parents had, while others had strange coloured hair and others still did not even look Japanese. They were all walking in different directions, reminding him of an aquarium he had once seen on a school fieldtrip. Everyone was talking, and no one took notice of the young boy by himself on the side of the road.

He walked through the crowds, being careful to not get stepped on or pushed around by people bigger than him. He noticed a lot of people milling around with similar coloured articles of clothing on, like scarves or ties or hats. He wondered what that all meant, but decided he probably did not want to know and kept to himself.

More cars than he had ever seen before drove quickly by, honking and turning sharply as they went. He watched the sign with the little man on it, watching for it to turn from red to green so he could cross in front of the cars safely. He thought how proud his Mother would be that he was making sure to follow traffic laws without having to be reminded. He then thought of how red she was when he last saw her and decided it was best if he stopped thinking about Mother.

There were also a lot of people in a blue uniform walking around, talking to each other about homework and teachers and clubs. He thought maybe they were in a high school, as he had not needed to wear a uniform yet. He had been very excited by the prospect of wearing a uniform, yet he had had to leave his hometown before he was forced into a home that he would be sad in.

He wandered the city for hours, looking at all the strange, new sights and wondering where exactly he was. He was too shy to ask, and no one really seemed to be saying anything. He could not read the newspapers very well, though he was one of the best students in his hiragana/katakana classes. He felt very lost and very confused, but he did not mind much as the city had much to offer in entertaining him.

By the time it had gotten darker out, turning the sky a purple colour instead of the bluish-black he had been used to, he ended up in a park with benches and a fountain. He ran up to the fountain and walked along the edge, holding his arms out to either side to keep him balanced. The sun slipped past the tall buildings and plunged the city into darkness.

The city at night was just as interesting as it was in the day. Buildings lit up like bright, neon glow flies, streetlamps tittering to life with a soft hum and a slight flicker like some sort of lazy cat after an afternoon nap. There were less people in business suits walking around and more in casual clothing. He saw the people gathered in crowds of similar-coloured bandanas and scarves and hats, and he wondered again what it all meant.

Leaving the park as it filled with more crowds of people in colours, he walked towards the street again. Just as he was about to run across the road, even though it was a red man and not a green but there were not very many cars and he thought he could make it, he looked over to see something amazing heading towards him.

It was a motorbike, just as he had seen in manga and photos, heading towards him very quickly. It was very quiet, making little to no sound, and the headlight was blacked out so that it did not shine brightly like the cars did. As the motorbike rushed forward more quickly, he thought he heard the engine. Yet instead of a mechanical grinding noise, he heard what sounded like some sort of animal voicing itself to the world.

Just as suddenly as he saw the bike, it skidded to a screeching halt in front of him, ending up parallel to him instead of front-to-front like some strange game of chicken. The rider, a slim person in a jet black rider suit that did not reflect any light and a yellow cat-eared helmet, looked down at him through their pure-black visor, staring deeply at him. He stared back, eyes wide and curious as to who would ride a motorbike that did not make noise nor had headlights.

He blinked as something appeared in the rider's hand then seemingly from nowhere, and he watched as they typed quickly into the electrical device, before showing him a screen with characters on it. He took a moment to look at the words carefully before he sort of understood what it said.

_Why are you standing in the middle of the road?_

"I was crossing it," he replied honestly, as his Father had always told him to tell the truth. He thought of his Father then, red and white and glassy-eyed like a doll, and decided it would be best to stop thinking of Father.

The rider took back their PDA and started to type in it, fingers flying through characters. They then showed it to him again.

_It's not yet time for people to cross the road. It's dangerous to try and cross before the man is green._

"There are not very many cars," he said again, tilting his head curiously. "Why don't you talk?"

_Because I can't. Where are your parents?_

"My parents are in black bags in the hospital. Why can't you talk?"

The person seemed to be taken aback by what he had said. After all, who lightly told people that their parents were in 'black bags', usually meaning death? They then typed something and showed it to him.

_I can't talk because of special reasons. How did you get here if you aren't with your parents?_

"I ran away."

The two fell into a silence then, thick and long and dark just like shadows. He thought for a moment that the rider reminded him of shadows. He thought he saw smoke coming from their fingers as they began to type again.

_Do you have anywhere to stay?_

"No."

He watched as the rider seemed to think about something for a very long moment before typing again, showing him the PDA screen.

_Do you want to come with me? _

He stared at the words before looking at them again. His Mother had always told him not to talk to strangers, and his Father had always told him to beware of invitations by strangers, but he had always thought these pieces of advice contradicted one another. How could he get invitations by strangers if he didn't talk to them? So he ignored what he had been taught by his parents for all six years of his life and simply nodded slightly before he tightened his grip on his backpack.

"Why?" he asked as he watched the rider form a black helmet around his size from the strange black shadows that surrounded them. He did not think much on this, as what did he know of normal and non-normal in cities? Perhaps everyone could create solid objects from shadows. The rider hesitated for a moment, before placing the helmet on his head and lifting him up to sit in front of them. He twisted his head back to watch as they typed in something on their PDA before showing him what they had said.

_Because no one should be left alone when someone can offer them a place to stay._

Watching as the PDA slipped back in its spot within the rider's sleeve, he was turned so that his back faced the rider. His backpack was placed in front of him, and he got the impression that he had to hold onto it very tightly else he'd lose it forever. Once he had a firm grip, thin arms went to either side of him, caging him in as the motorbike started with a whiney-sound, and they suddenly shot off.

Though wanting to watch everything on their drive, he could not help but allow his eyes to fall shut into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

"Hey, who's that?"

He opened his eyes as he heard a voice, blinking a few times to clear fuzzy vision muzzled by sleep. Once he was sure he'd be able to see everything clearly, he turned to look over towards the source of the voice. As he shifted, he noticed that he was in black-clad arms and thought he must've been in the rider's hold. He did not mind much, as he felt comfort in the embrace of the strangely quiet rider. In fact, to keep himself better balanced, he wrapped his arms around the rider's neck.

Looking down from his position, he saw a boy older than him staring up at him curiously. He had glasses and dark, straight black hair that slightly flared out at the ends oddly. He seemed a bit strange to him, but overall he seemed harmless. The boy smiled up at him then, waving.

"Celty never brings anyone home! You must be a very special case!"

"Celty?"

The glasses-boy stared at him for a moment before he smiled again. "You don't know who Celty is? You're sitting on her!"

He blinked, turning to look at the black riding suit the rider, Celty, wore. The rider, apparently a girl. He thought about this for a moment before he shrugged and rested his head on Celty's shoulder.

"So, why did Celty bring you home?"

He shrugged, closing his eyes and sighing softly. The other boy huffed in what seemed to be annoyance, and he thought he'd say something when he felt one of Celty's arms move. He opened his eyes and looked down to see Celty placing a hand on the boy's head, running her fingers through his hair briefly. She then produced her PDA and started to type one-handed.

The boy read whatever she had written with an intent look on his face before he nodded. "Ah, so Celty has decided to keep you." He smiled then, looking up at him. "Well, then I should introduce myself! My name is Kishitani Shinra! Celty's full name is Celty Sturluson. What's your name?"

He stared at the boy named Shinra for a moment, wondering what his parents would think of him telling his name to strangers.

He then thought that they didn't really care because they had disappeared in black bags, anyhow, and so he opened his mouth.

"Ryuugamine Mikado."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hello again, community of DRRR! I'm sorry for my absence this past little while, but I was busy doing scholarly things such as creating a poster on William Faulkner, putting together an annotated bibliography, writing two very long papers and studying for exams! I have had a very busy past couple of weeks, and I appreciate the patience you have all given me in regards to updating on this story. I enjoy writing, but my education is important - and I'm in an English program, so it's helping me research and improve, SHOCK! Anyhow, we move onto the second installment of 'Satellite', which continues for the most part from where we left off! Like I said before, this is going to be a long, developing story. Meaning Mikado's childhood is not going to be there one minute and gone the next. I am going to include his years, growing up and finding new things and people that affect his life. So if any of you are here looking solely for the romance, that won't be happening for quite a bit and it will be a turbulent ride until Mikado ends up with the character of my choosing. You are all afraid now, I sense it, haha. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you have enjoyed the last one! And if there are any little mistakes such as 'serial' and 'cereal' (which I fixed last chapter, thank you Epouvantable!), I would appreciate it if you could kindly point them out to me so that I may fix them and prevent others from going, 'This woman can't spell, what the crap'. Enjoy!

Durarara! belongs to its respective copyright owners.

* * *

The view from the Kishitani-Sturluson apartment balcony was very pretty.

Mikado noticed this the second day of his stay there. Celty had left early in the morning to go to work, and Shinra had left to go to school, leaving the boy to his own devices. One might have thought it odd to leave a six-year-old boy alone in a strange apartment in a strange city, yet Mikado did not find it so odd. After all, he could take care of himself. He knew how to fold futons and make himself a sandwich without cutting himself with the butter knife. He knew that plates and utensils went into the sink, butter went into the fridge and bread went into the cupboard. He knew not touch anything, to stay in the areas he was told was okay, and to stay away from Celty and Shinra's rooms.

He had just finished eating a sandwich when he idly looked out the balcony window and saw for the first time the strange, awe-inspiring city from above. The tops of the buildings, shining brightly due to the morning sun, glimmered before him like the sea he had seen once when he was very small, sand between his toes and his mother laughing as she hadn't for the longest time. There were a few birds on top of the roofs of the buildings, fluttering their wings and cooing stupidly to one another. He could not hear the sound of cars and people, but he knew it was happening. After all, he had walked amongst the streets only yesterday; it could not be too different from then.

It had been a few hours since he had first noticed the view outside of the balcony window. He was now sitting on the couch, blandly watching the television and wondering if he would be able to go back to school. Mikado had enjoyed school very much. It was always a little different every time he went. A teacher would talk about something new, or a classmate would bring in a new manga to show classmates. Sometimes fights broke out, sometimes they did not. Mikado and his very best friend, Kida Masaomi, would trade lunches on most days, with Kida-kun taking his chocolate chip cookies and Mikado taking Kida-kun's fruit snacks.

It was interesting. It was different. It was _exciting_.

Sitting in the living room, watching the television, doing nothing was _boring_.

Just as he contemplated going back into the room designated as his and falling asleep, the door to the apartment opened. Mikado listened to the sounds of someone taking off their shoes and slipping on a pair of slippers before he looked over to the door to see who was home. He blinked slowly as he saw Shinra walk in with his book bag on his shoulder and a grin on his face. He tilted his head to the side as the older boy dropped his bag onto the chair by the couch and walked over to where Mikado sat, sitting next to him.

"Hey Mikado-kun, how old are you?"

Surprised by the question, Mikado shrugged a shoulder quietly, looking away. "I'm six," he said softly, rubbing an itchy spot on his nose and wondering where Shinra was going to go with this.

"So you're six years younger than me…"

"You're twelve, Shinra-san?"

"Yeah, I am. You're pretty good at math, Mikado-kun." Mikado smiled a little bit at that, scratching his cheek humbly which caused Shinra to laugh and ruffle his hair playfully. "Anyhow, I was just wondering if you wanted to enrol into the elementary school I went to. I can e-mail my dad about it tonight, and he can set it up so that you can go to school. Only if you want to go there, though. I went to a private school, so that would mean a uniform _now_, instead of when you enter junior high school."

"…" Mikado looked away from Shinra as he started to talk about the pros and cons of the school, going into detail about the teachers, curriculum, principle and vice-principle and the workload. He only paid half-attention, though, as he wondered why Shinra was offering to get his father, who didn't know him, to enrol a complete stranger into school.

"Why?" Mikado finally asked, looking over at him. Shinra stumbled over something he was saying, eyes wide behind his oval-shaped spectacles before he smiled and shrugged.

"I dunno, 'cause I thought you would get bored sitting around here all day. There's nothing to do at the apartment, since we don't have any video game consoles or good channels on the television. Plus, you kind of seem like the type of person who would enjoy school."

Mikado nodded, closing his eyes as Shinra fell quiet, allowing the boy to think. After a moment, he opened his eyes and looked over at Shinra, nodding once slowly to show he wanted to go. Shinra grinned then, clapping his hands together with a self-proud smile.

"Great! I'll e-mail my dad right now!" he got up, pausing for a moment to look back at him. "Oh…Celty said she wanted to cook for you tonight," Shinra said with a wary smile. "I like her cooking, personally, since she tries so hard to make a good meal. But…uhm…she doesn't have the watermelon cell, sadly."

"Watermelon cell?"

"She can't tell if something tastes right or not. She's not from Japan, and she's only been here for a little while, so she's not used to Japanese food. But…uhm…could you please eat it? Even if you don't like it?" Shinra looked at him pleadingly, making Mikado wonder if Celty's food tasted of dirt and dog poop. He then shrugged and nodded, rubbing his cheek idly when he felt a tingle there, not quite an itch but bothering enough to take care of it.

"Okay."

"Great! I'll go e-mail my dad, then."

Mikado watched him leave, not sure what kind of life he had been adopted into, and not quite sure if he regretted it or not.

* * *

Celty's homemade dinner gave him cramps that night and made him feel utterly horrible, yet when the PDA showed her worried questioning he simply said he hadn't been feeling well lately anyway, so maybe his 'cold' took a turn for the worst. He had excused himself after that, laying in his futon and wondering how someone could mess up on food that badly.

He had slept for a few hours after that, the pain in his stomach slowly going away. He was woken up by the sounds of two voices quietly talking, both male, so he knew it wasn't Celty. After all, she couldn't talk for 'special reasons'. This caused him to wonder who the people were. One sounded somewhat like Shinra, but the other was a completely unknown voice. Yawning, Mikado sat up and rubbed an eye, pushing his comforter off of himself and making his way to his door. He slid it open silently, looking around blearily before spotting a light in the kitchen.

Quietly padding towards the source of the light, he jumped in surprise when Celty seemingly melded out of the shadows, adjusting her helmet as if she had just put it on. He blinked, looking at her with wide eyes when she looked over at him suddenly. Her shoulders jumped, showing her surprise at his appearance. He watched as the PDA appeared from her sleeve then, and she quickly typed something, showing him her message once she was done.

_What are you doing up, Mikado-kun? I thought you weren't feeling well?_

"I heard voices," Mikado said softly, getting the feeling that Celty did not want him to be noticed yet. He watched as she seemed to contemplate him before she turned to her PDA again, typing in something and showing it to him.

_You hear Shinra and his father._

"His father?" Mikado blinked, not having known that Shinra's father lived in the apartment with them. He had gotten the feeling that Celty was some kind of caretaker of Shinra, and that Shinra's father worked somewhere far away. At least, that was what he had thought when Shinra had said he would e-mail his father, and not call him at work or something like that. Perhaps he was wrong?

_He's a scientist. He doesn't really live here, though he pays the rent and everything for the building._ Mikado nodded and Celty took her PDA back, writing again. _His name is Kishitani Shingen and…he's a bit of a strange fellow._

"Strange?"

_Uhm…well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you to go look for yourself._

Mikado nodded and walked away from Celty, unaware that she was watching him walk towards the kitchen light, her fingers tightening around the PDA. He paused at the slightly ajar door, peeking inside to see Shinra sitting with his back to the door, talking quietly to the man across from him. Mikado looked to him then, eyes widening slightly in surprise.

The man sat in a white lab coat, a pair of white gloves, and what seemed to be some sort of gasmask over his face, blocking out what he could possibly look like underneath. His voice was slightly obscured because of the mask, making him sound funny like Darth Vader from that English movie his father and he had watched once before a year ago. The man was talking animatedly though quietly, as though making sure not to wake their sleeping guest. Shinra was speaking quite similarly, but with his own quirky movements and hand gestures. After a moment, he slid open the door and walked in.

Father and son turned to Mikado then, Shinra showing his surprise and Shingen staring at him with what Mikado could only guess was a peculiar look. He shifted uncomfortably for a moment, before straightening his arms by his sides and giving a polite bow to Shinra's father. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I heard voices," he said politely, knowing he was doing his mother proud and not caring a bit as he did. He heard a soft chuckle then and looked up to see Shingen waving his hand to Mikado as if telling him to relax.

"It's all right, m'boy, it's all right," he said then, standing up and walking over to him. "We were just talking about you, actually. Shinra tells me you want to go to his old elementary school, is that right Ryuugamine-kun?"

"Yes, sir," Mikado answered honestly, looking up into the mask's eyes. He felt like he was staring into the face of an overgrown fly, and he had to wonder if this was how flies felt before they were swatted away by impatient humans. He flinched slightly when Shingen reached out and patted his head lightly.

"Well then, I'll get you registered and you can start next week. How does that sound?"

"Thank you, sir." Mikado bowed again, closing his eyes when he heard Shingen laugh once more before he listened to him walk away from him, out of the door and into the hallway. He straightened and looked over at Shinra, who was smiling at him faintly.

"He's a bit weird, right?" he asked then, waving the smaller boy over. Mikado walked over with a slight nod, sitting down as he was indicated. Shinra then stood up and walked over to the kitchen, pulling out a bowl and some cereal for Mikado to eat. "I'm sorry that we woke you up. Dad was being difficult, though. He didn't know why he couldn't ask you if you wanted to go to school or not. After all, it's your choice, right?" He grinned, obviously quoting his father. "I didn't want you to meet him, though."

"How come?"

"Because you're _normal_, Mikado-kun. And someone in this household has to be at least a bit normal, right?" He walked back over to the six-year-old then, placing down a bowl of cereal and smiling. "Celty said she wasn't going to be cooking again because she saw me crying while I was eating. I'll be cooking again for a while." He paused, looking thoughtful before grinning. "Did you want to learn how to cook? It's really easy!"

"Aren't I too small?" Mikado asked curiously, spooning some cereal and chewing on it quietly. Shinra shrugged, smiling and leaning against the counter behind him.

"Maybe. But that doesn't mean you can't learn, right?"

Mikado shrugged, not really caring one way or another. It'd be interesting, at least.

* * *

It did not take long for Mikado to be accepted into the private school Shinra had gone to in elementary school, nor had it taken long to get a uniform and a book bag for him to use.

He had just finished making up his futon when Celty came into his room, holding a neatly ironed uniform with the typed out question _Do you want me to help you?_

He nodded, taking off his pyjamas and accepting his pants and shirt when Celty handed them to him, buttoning his shirt up slowly so that he did not miss a single hole. Once he was done that, he tucked his shirt in like he had seen Shinra tuck his shirt in when getting ready for school. He then turned to Celty, who stood there waiting for him to be ready for her to come in. She stepped forward, kneeling in front of him and wrapping the tie around his neck, tying it loosely and correctly making the knot. He watched her with fascination, remembering when his mother would help his father tie his tie in the mornings or when they were going out to dinners.

'_I'll teach you how to tie a tie one day, Mikado-kun,'_ his mother had promised once. She never did keep to that promise. He wondered if he should be more upset, but he found he couldn't be. After all, his parents decided to disappear in the black bags. He did not ask them to or tell them to. It was their decision to leave him behind. Why should he care what they promised or said anymore?

He felt a soft hand on his cheek then and he blinked, looking at Celty in confusion. She simply pulled her hand back to show it gleaming with a tear. Mikado stared at the tear with fascination before he silently wiped his face of them and shook his head. "I'm fine," he murmured softly, knowing that was what she was asking without her having to ask him on the PDA. "I don't know why I'm crying."

They stood there for a moment, awkward and silent and feeling like static was filling the air when suddenly Celty leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Mikado in a hug. Mikado froze, in shock, before his face crumpled and he sagged against Celty and cried for the first time in days since his parents' death.

He didn't care that they were dead. He didn't care that they were in black bags in the hospital, nor did he care that he had seen them covered in so much red and that the knife had been sticky to touch and that he had thrown up everything he had eaten that day after looking into his father's glassy, doll-like eyes. He didn't care about any of that.

But they left him behind, and he cared about _that_.

Pulling back, Celty produced a hand towel out of seemingly nowhere, wiping his face gently and brushing her fingers through his hair comfortingly as he had seen her do to Shinra multiple times. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being cared for even by a complete stranger before he opened them again and looked down at his shirt to see there was a tear spot or two. He frowned, sighing, before taking the coat Celty silently offered and slipping it on, buttoning it slowly.

She nodded, giving him a thumbs up and for the first time since he had come into the Kishitani-Sturluson apartment, he smiled wide.

* * *

Mikado found that he liked going to school in the city.

He had learned shortly after arriving to the apartment that the city was called 'Ikebukuro' and that it was a district in the capital of Japan, Tokyo. The education system there, naturally, was slightly different than it had been when he went to school in the country. It was especially different because he was now going to a private school and not a public school, and so the level of learning was slightly higher.

Mikado found he enjoyed the difficulty of the courses, and he excelled in the things he did.

His teachers were impressed by his intuitiveness and his intelligence, wondering where he had learned how to retain information so well. He was not sure himself, but he had always been able to figure something big out of something little. His mother had always been unnerved by it; his father had always been proud.

However, after the day he cried for his parents, he stopped thinking about them all together. Eventually, he forgot that they left him behind. And soon, after a year of going to school and living with Shinra and Celty (and being visited by Shingen), he forgot what they looked like, what his mother's favourite dress was, and the sound of his father's laugh. And he did not mind.

Living with Celty and Shinra was definitely interesting as well. When his birthday came around, Shinra baked him a cake and sang loudly and off-key the birthday song, with Celty clapping her hands, the visor of her helmet flashing in the candlelight. The now little seven-year-old boy was horribly curious as to what was beneath the helmet, as Celty never took it off with him in the room. He knew she could not have possibly slept with it on, but just like when he first came to the apartment, he knew better than to enter her room without her permission.

He allowed his curiousity to eat him up inside, since he did not want to ask Celty why she hid herself around him. She had her reasons, he knew she did. He might have been a child, but he understood that adults always had reasons behind the things they did, and Celty would most likely have a very good reason.

Shinra and he became closer as the months passed, which surprised Mikado vaguely. The older boy would help him with his homework, mostly math and science, and the two would go out to the market or the mall or the book store on the weekends when they did not have school. Though Mikado usually kept to himself, only commenting on things he was asked about, Shinra spoke enough for five people; he learned about the older boy's day from his teachers to his classes to his classmates. He learned who was interesting and who was boring and who was nice and who was mean. He learned who Shinra would _love_ to dissect (he had been quick to accept that Shinra was a bit weird, but looking at his father, this was obvious).

Shinra treated him like a kid brother, carrying him around on his back, teaching him how to bike ride and how to roller blade and how to ice skate in the winter months. They cooked, Shinra talking on his nights and Mikado concentrating on his with Shinra and Celty supervising to make sure he did not hurt himself.

Another year passed, as well as more birthdays, and Mikado was eight when he first learned of Shinra's friend Heiwajima Shizuo.

He did not really _learn_ about him, per say. It was more like Shinra came home in an excited rush, cheeks flushed and eyes wide with uncontained glee.

"I'm going out for a little while, do you think you can handle dinner Mikado-kun?"

"Sure, where are you going?"

"I'm going to visit a classmate of mine in the hospital." Shinra turned to Mikado with a wide grin then. "He _threw a desk_ at someone today! I _have_ to get to know him!"

He was gone before Mikado could ask anything else, making the younger boy wonder who this classmate of Shinra's was, and what would Shinra like for dinner?

He took a moment to think more on the strange student, wondering how it was possible for a fourteen-year-old to throw a desk and why would he throw a desk in the first place. He then decided it was probably best if he did not concern himself too much with the student, as he was not his business.

Sighing and shrugging to himself, he turned back to his homework, focusing on the equations in front of him while half his mind went through different recipes they could have for dinner that night.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Chapter three! I have an updating schedule now, and I'll tell you that in a moment. I just want to write my little blurb first. First of all, I would like to thank you guys for your wonderful feedback so far, as that means a lot to me. I'm perfectly nervous posting this story, and I'm terrified that I'll destroy characters along the way. However, you've all assured me I'm doing well and that means a lot to me. Now, my 'beta' of sorts, the person who tells me that the chapter is good for public consumption, tells me that this chapter is 'different' from the rest, and I think I know why. Mikado is starting to grow up a little more. He's a young boy, but nearing the age of nine/ten, little boys start growing up, and so, the writing needs to grow up as well. Mikado cannot be adorable for the rest of his story, as he won't be a child forever. On that same note, he will always have a sense of naïvety about him, and that's important to remember. Even as he grows up around the people he will, even as he changes due to his surroundings and his 'family' and the friends he makes, Mikado will always retain a sort of innocence, even if at one point it is kind of 'warped' in a way. I find this important to note, as a lot of young adults and teenagers these days lose their sense of innocence really fast, and I don't want Mikado to lose his. It's integral to his character.

Anyhow, my update schedule will be **Wednesdays and Saturdays**. I chose these days because they work best for me. I will not, however, be updating **Saturday, December 25th**, or **Saturday, January 1st_, _**for obvious reasons (these being Christmas and New Years). I will update the **Sundays** then.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Durarara! belongs to its respective copyright owners.

* * *

He had thrown the desk because he was annoyed at some of his classmates.

At least, that was what Shinra said. Mikado wasn't sure if that was the real reason, or if that was what was rumoured to be the reason. After all, rumours in classrooms spread like wildfire; Mikado would not be surprised if Shinra had heard some people talking about Heiwajima Shizuo and his desk-throwing capabilities, and had latched on to the first explanation he heard. Shinra was like that sometimes. Like this one time Shinra had heard from some teenagers near the video game store that people who played a certain game had their minds sucked into the consoles. This had been shortly after Shingen had bought the apartment a new game console. Shinra did not go near it for a week.

Shinra would not stop talking about Heiwajima Shizuo after that initial day he rushed into the apartment exclaiming that the boy had thrown a desk. Celty did not seem to mind, probably used to his personality after 10 years of living with him and his father, but Mikado was starting to get tired of him talking over and over about the classmate. So, to silence him, he asked if he could meet Heiwajima Shizuo, to 'meet this person Shinra-san was so keen on'.

He was not sure what he was expecting when he went that weekend with Shinra to go see his classmate. He had imagined some large, bleached-blonde haired psycho with tattoos and an evil eye. So when he was led into a room and faced with a completely normal, if disgruntled looking boy near Shinra's age and probably a little taller than him, Mikado was both relieved and disappointed.

"Shizuo-kun! This is my little brother Mikado-kun, the one I've talked about! Well, he's not really my little brother but it's just easier to introduce him like that so people don't ask questions." Shinra turned to Mikado then, smiling brightly. "Mikado-kun, this is Heiwajima Shizuo-kun!"

Mikado nodded politely, watching as Heiwajima Shizuo looked him over once before grunting and looking away. There was a bottle of milk on his bedside table, stupidly placed on the side with his broken arm. Mikado watched as he struggled to sit up and get it, wondering if he had broken his arm from throwing the desk or from exerting his body past its physical capabilities. After watching the boy grumble darkly under his breath, his neck turning red and a vein popping out from his temple, Mikado walked over to his bedside, grabbed the milk and opened it, handing it over to Shinra's friend and classmate.

A silence fell over them for a moment, Heiwajima Shizuo looking at him with suspicious and surprised eyes, Mikado looking back with simple, polite curiousity. After a tense pause, Heiwajima Shizuo took the milk with a muttered 'thanks' and gulped down half of it in one go.

Mikado decided that, though a bit strange, Heiwajima Shizuo seemed like a very nice, shy person. And that he would like to get to know him very much.

* * *

A new student was introduced into one of the other classes two weeks after Mikado met Heiwajima Shizuo. He was said to come from the same place that Mikado used to live, and he already seemed to be very popular amongst his classmates. Though everyone had lunch at the same time, Mikado never did see the new student, and so he did not bother to try and find him. He would meet him when he would meet him, and he wouldn't go to the effort of trying to find him just for him to be annoying or something.

Mikado was not what one would call 'popular' in school. He focused on his studies, handed his homework in on time, did the necessary gym work and had contemplated joining a club before deciding that he did not want to, as it would take away from his studying. For an eight-year-old, he was very keen on keeping on top of his studies. Celty found this slightly worrying, as she had always thought children were meant to be playful and curious about everything. Shinra thought it was fine if Mikado kept to himself, as each child was different. So while children in his class ran around outside and played games of tag, hide-and-seek and grounders, Mikado stayed in the shade of the trees usually and read a book.

He did have a few friends in school, of course. There was a boy his age that was very intense in everything he did named Yagiri Seiji who had an older sister around Shinra's age. Though the two called themselves 'friends' at school, they mostly just sat together at lunch, walked a bit home together and usually ended up sharing class-cleaning duties. Outside of that, they rarely saw one another, and so Mikado was more a loner than anything. Not that he minded this too much; he had Shinra and Celty, who he cared for very much, and that's all that really mattered to him.

However, the new boy in the school interested him, even though he had never seen him. He was from the same country town that he was, and he was his age. It made him wonder, was it someone he knew before he had run away? Was it someone he had been friends with, someone he cared for a great deal in the sixth grade? Thoughts like these brought Kida Masaomi to mind, and he wondered how his old best friend was doing. He still considered Kida-kun to be his best friend, even if they had not spoken in a couple of years and they hadn't stayed in touch in any way. He regretted losing Kida-kun as a friend, as he was someone he had looked up to very much when he was six.

His thoughts stayed cluttered that day, both with thoughts of the new student and of Kida-kun, so that when he left the school after last class, he was very surprised to see Shinra standing there with a grin.

"Hello, Shinra-san," Mikado greeted, looking at him curiously. "Why are you here?"

"Shizuo-kun asked if I'd get you today," he said with a smile. "He has a little brother that's a couple years younger than him, and he's agreed to let you meet him."

"Why?"

"Well, Celty…and I, I guess, are worried about you. You're really smart Mikado-kun, but you don't really have any friends. Yagiri-kun doesn't count." Shinra looked at him with the fond look Mikado often saw him using when it came to him. He knew that Shinra always explained that calling him his 'little brother' was just easier than trying to explain their living situation, but in reality Shinra did see him as a little brother. He did not mind that he was seen as such; Shinra was like an older brother to him. Strange, a little scatterbrained, but at the same time a good older brother if he had ever seen one.

"All right, then," Mikado agreed with a nod, shifting his book bag on his shoulder, heavy with that day's homework. "Shall we go?"

"Yep!" Shinra placed a hand on his shoulder and steered him in the right direction to the hospital, walking down the sidewalk and talking a mile a minute about Heiwajima Shizuo's little brother. Mikado half listened, wanting to meet the boy before he placed an image on him.

They arrived at the hospital shortly after and were escorted into Shinra's friend's room just in time to see Heiwajima Shizuo throwing an IV rack at the wall opposite of his bed. Mikado froze in his step, eyes widening and mouth dropping open in surprise. He looked over at the boy then to see him panting angrily, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched in a grimace while a calm looking boy with a flat expression and black hair sat beside him, quietly drinking a bottle of milk.

"Ah, Shizuo-kun! Be careful with your arm! Why did you throw the IV rack today?"

_Today?_

"'Cause the damn dripping was getting on my nerves!" The angry teen shouted, eyes sliding over to Mikado to see him staring at him with surprise in his eyes. Surprise, but not fear. That seemed to calm him down, for whatever reason, and he sagged back against his pillows, sighing tiredly. "Whatever, they'll just replace it like always."

"It's still not a good idea to waste hospital equipment like that, Shizuo-kun! It's very expensive!" Shinra sighed as his friend simply shrugged, before he turned to Mikado and smiled. "Ah, right, I brought Mikado-kun with me! Is this your little brother..?"

"Kasuka," Shizuo said softly, looking over at his brother as he turned to look at his guests, lifting a hand in greeting. "These two are….eh…"

"Haha, Shizuo-kun forgot my name again. I'm Kishitani Shinra, and this is my little brother, Ryuugamine Mikado."

"Ryuugamine?"

Kasuka's voice was soft, void of most emotions, and quiet. Mikado got the feeling that out of the two brothers, Kasuka got all of the tranquility and Shizuo got all of the temperament. He found that to be interesting, as he had only seen polar opposites like that in anime and manga. He hadn't known that people like that actually existed.

"I'm adopted," Mikado said softly before Shinra could go into his long and complicated explanation to their different last names. "Shinra-san's guardian took me in two years ago, and Shinra-san just calls me his little brother for simplicity's sake."

Kasuka stared at him for a moment, his dark eyes seemingly looking straight through him into his very core before he slowly nodded and finished his milk. He stood up then and walked over to Mikado, looking down at him from the slight height advantage he had over the younger boy. Mikado stared back at him to see what he would do when he suddenly flinched due to the fact that Kasuka was now rubbing his hair like an adult would pat a child's head after an accomplishment. He wasn't sure how he felt about this treatment.

"What's in your bag?" Kasuka asked then, dropping his hand and looking at the book bag with an expression that had a vague sense of interest to it. Mikado shrugged his bag off, opening it and showing his homework. "Do you need help?"

He was about to say 'no' when he looked up and saw Heiwajima Shizuo and Shinra looking at them with different expressions; Heiwajima Shizuo was interested, with a bit of confusion, while Shinra was looking expectant and excited. Inwardly sighing, he turned back to Kasuka and nodded once.

"Sure."

* * *

Mikado had started to spend more time with Kasuka after the first time. The older boy had realized that Mikado was capable of doing his homework by himself, but he enjoyed helping Mikado, so the younger allowed him to. They did not talk much and when they did it was usually about school, or a manga that Mikado had seen in the book store, or about Heiwajima-san's condition. A week after Kasuka and Mikado had first met, Kasuka's older brother was allowed out of the hospital and back to school, where Shinra made it his mission to spend as much time as possible with the other boy.

Mikado thought it was interesting, Shinra's friendship with Heiwajima-san. They did not match up very well, and Mikado was sure Shinra annoyed the other boy more than he should. Shinra would always talk about how amazing Heiwajima-san was, with his ability to toss objects bigger and heavier than him with apparent ease. He theorized that Heiwajima-san was able to sort of 'turn off' the connection between his body and his brain when it came to using his physical strength, as the brain only allowed the human body to handle what it could and not more.

Mikado was never sure why Shinra felt the need to explain this to him, as he was not particularly interested in how Heiwajima-san's body and brain worked. But oh well.

In comparison, Mikado's friendship with Kasuka was a good match. They were both quiet, both generally liked the same things, and they both had a soothing effect on Heiwajima-san and Shinra. When Shinra started to get overly excited, Mikado would usually tell him to calm down as he was hyperventilating, and that was all that needed to be done. Similarly, whenever Heiwajima-san was about to throw a trash bin or a nearby vending machine, Kasuka would appear with a bottle of milk and some flat words, deflating his anger.

Of course, Mikado did not spend the majority of his time with Shinra, Heiwajima-san or Kasuka. He spent a bit of his time after school with the three older boys and then, once he was done his homework or he felt he had spent enough time with them, he would head home and spend some time with the woman who adopted him, Celty.

Celty was still a mystery to Mikado, even though he had known her for two, going on three years of his life. She had taken him in with no other reason than she was able; she had given him a home and a family, even if it was warped. She had helped him when he had grieved for his parents, allowed him to forget them in his grief and anger, and yet she was still as confusing as she had been that first night, looking down at him with her dark, opaque visor and typing out words instead of talking like everyone else.

At first Mikado had thought Celty was mute, but then he had met a mute girl in school. He had watched her talk to her mother using hand symbols that she had obviously learned a long time ago, as she used them as fluently as people used words. He had asked Celty about it later, and she had told him she wasn't mute, exactly; she could not speak due to special circumstances, as she had initially told him. However, just like before, she did not explain the special circumstances and Mikado, sensing an uncomfortable topic, left it alone.

It was not that he minded that he did not know much about his adoptive mother, as he saw her. Celty was naturally a very private person, he could tell that immediately. She did not allow anyone near her room unless she led them in there first. No one was allowed near her motorcycle unless she gave express permission. No one was allowed to log onto her computer unless she gave the okay. This did not make her some sort of unfair, freakishly protective person, though. Celty was an adult woman, and she had very few possessions. The ones she did have, she kept close to her, and she did not want anything to happen to them, so she took good care of them. Mikado had ridden on her motorcycle countless times, watched her search the web and even got her to help him type out a paper he had to hand into his class the next day.

The one thing he did wish to know, though, was why Celty insisted on wearing her motorcycle helmet whenever he was in the room. It was the only thing about his adoptive mother that he did not like or understand in the slightest, and it made him feel as though she did not trust him.

He did not like the thought of Celty not trusting him.

* * *

It was his ninth birthday when he finally learned why Celty hid underneath her helmet all of the time.

The day had started out normally enough. His birthday had, luckily, hit upon a weekend that year and so he did not have to go to classes and could spend the day as he pleased. So he started it by sleeping in, for once. Mikado was not one for sleeping in; he rose when the sun did, and went to bed when the sun did. Shinra often called him weird, being a kid who did not want to stay up at all hours of the night; Celty seemed to appreciate it, though.

He had been woken up around eleven by Shinra and Kasuka, who had been invited over for his birthday party (that he was apparently having). When he was dragged out of bed, bathed and dressed, he folded up his futon and put it where it was supposed to go, walking to the kitchen to have some cereal and watch Shinra and Kasuka play a video game on their console. Celty had taken the day off of work, and so was sitting next to him, laughing in her silent way as Shinra was defeated brutally by the ever-stoic Kasuka.

As the day had progressed, the four of them thought up different activities to do and games to play, such as Twister, Truth or Dare, Lies, and Have I Ever. They watched a movie about aliens that seemed to scare Celty, and then Shinra left them to make dinner.

Dinner was a loud affair, for once. Heiwajima-san had been invited over, and so Shinra and he were making a ruckus while Celty, Mikado and Kasuka all watched with interested expressions (or auras, when it came to Celty). The cake was brought out, cut and eaten, the presents were given, and then after about an hour or so of just sitting around and talking Kasuka and Heiwajima-san went home, leaving Shinra, Celty and Mikado to clean up.

Mikado would have cleaned up, at least, if he had been allowed to. However, he was banished from the kitchen on account of him 'being the birthday boy', and so he had grabbed his presents (a CD player and a CD he had been interested in from Kasuka and Heiwajima-san, a calendar from Celty to keep his life organized and a computer set up from Shinra, who promised to set it up for him on a later date) and disappeared to his room. At some point, listening to his CD and laying on his unfolded futon, Mikado had fallen asleep.

He had woken up a few hours later, the sun long gone and the moon high up in the sky. Getting up, he walked out of his room towards the living room, where he saw Shinra sprawled out on the couch, snoring with his mouth open and his stomach showing. He grinned at the sight, shaking his head at the older boy and finding a blanket nearby, draping it over him carefully. He then went to explore where Celty was, to find her in her room with the door slightly opened.

He walked up to the door, raising his hand to knock when he looked inside and saw, for the first time, Celty without her helmet.

Her neck was long and swanlike, quite beautiful really, and that was about it. Where her head should have been was instead a seemingly vast pit of darkness and shadow, smoke and another kind of substance floating around her. His eyes widened at the sight, his mouth dropping open slightly in surprise and wonder. It was almost like watching Heiwajima-san throw a trash bin at some random stranger on the road, but fifty times better. Heiwajima-san always managed to injure himself or at least destroy the surrounding area. Celty, however, was beautiful. He wasn't attracted to her in any way, of course not; Celty was his adoptive mother. Yet she was still beautiful.

She melded with the shadows, so much like a fairytale that he was unsure that she was real for a moment.

Suddenly, the door opened and he looked up to see her seemingly staring down at him, her shoulders tense, her knuckles white. He blinked up at her, cocking his head to the side, before he reached a hand up in curiousity. He could tell she was unsure, yet she still bowed down so that his fingers could touch the end of her neck, the cool smoke running through his fingers and over his skin like iced silk.

"…Are you a fairy?" he asked softly, looking at where he supposed her eyes would be. She shrugged, not having her PDA, and he made a mental note to look up what she was later, or at least ask her. "…Were you afraid to show me?"

She moved her neck in a nod and he frowned, tugging on her collar. She knelt down in front of him so that they were 'eye' level, and he looked straight into the smoky shadows that surrounded her. "I would never be afraid of you. You're my momma."

Time seemed to freeze in that moment, Celty in her nightgown kneeling before Mikado, Mikado touching the side of her neck with a look of pure honesty. He was suddenly enfolded into the woman's arms, brought close for a hug, and he wrapped his arms around her happily, squeezing her.

He took the hug to mean 'thank you', even if in reality it meant something much, much more.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello again! So this is me updating on the new schedule, let's see if I can keep up with this, hm? Anyhow, this is when things start to change more for Mikado, as you can tell throughout the chapter. Also, the year skips will severely slow down by next chapter, and things will start to develop more deeply than they really have in the past. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and that you are still enjoying this story! I do not have much to say for this chapter, really. Oh, but I do have a little on-going project with this story. My 'beta' and I look for songs that suit the story whenever we can, as songs help me write. If you find any songs that you find are fitting, would you tell me? I love listening to new music, and the songs might help me get a permanent 'feel' on this story of mine. Thank you!

P.S. I most definitely did look up Japanese emoticons. You'll see. : P

Disclaimer: Durarara! belongs to its respective copyright owners.

* * *

Life for the next year was almost scheduled with how the days went by. During the days Mikado went to school, he would spend his lunch hours with Yagiri-kun, answer questions in class when the teacher asked him to and hand in his homework when he was supposed to. He would then spend an hour or so with Kasuka, being shortly joined by Heiwajima-san and Shinra and they would walk around town, look into stores, and watch as Heiwajima-san once again destroyed a building with his monstrous strength. Mikado would then go home, do his homework, and spend an hour or so with Celty watching television before he'd either start to make supper or set the table for Shinra while he made supper. It was all very ordinary, very boring, and very comfortable.

And then Shinra and Heiwajima-san went to high school.

It wasn't that their actual going to high school changed everything. They had new uniforms, harder subjects and more homework, but those were the only actual _changes_ that they went through. No, it was the people they had met that changed everything.

To be specific, one person.

Shinra said they had known Orihara Izaya from middle school, but that they did not spend time with him because he mostly kept to himself. He was told to be perfectly average, with pale skin, dark hair and a grin that was more fox than human. Shinra thought he was interesting, though overall normal, and so that explained why he had never talked about him before – Shinra liked to talk about abnormal things (where Mikado fit in there, he wasn't quite sure). Heiwajima-san had never heard of him because Heiwajima-san was just…bad with people and names and faces in general (he had finally remembered Mikado's last name, though it had been almost two years since they had met).

Mikado did not get to meet Orihara Izaya when Shinra and Heiwajima-san did, though. First of all, he was from the school across from Shinra and Heiwajima-san's, so he did not see him when he went to the school to meet up with them. And just like in middle school, Orihara Izaya mostly kept to himself.

That all changed one day when Mikado came home from school to see Heiwajima-san chasing around a strange, laughing person around their apartment complex with what looked to be the elevator door.

Alarmed that Heiwajima-san was trying to kill someone, Mikado ran up the stairs to the apartment to see Shinra and Celty standing on the balcony, watching with interested expressions. After dropping his bag off by the couch and slipping out of his shoes, he joined them on the balcony and looked up as well, staring at the angrily yelling Heiwajima-san and the maniacally laughing stranger.

"Why is Heiwajima-san trying to kill that man?"

"Because he paid someone to hit him with a truck."

Reasonable enough.

"Why would he pay someone to hit Heiwajima-san with a truck?"

"Because he's an ass-hole, and there's probably something mentally _off_ about him." Mikado looked over to see Shinra grinning as he said this, meaning that this person was abnormal and therefore Shinra's cup of tea.

"…Who is he?"

"Orihara Izaya-kun."

* * *

The cat-and-dog chase ended shortly after Heiwajima-san threw the water tower from the apartment complex at Orihara Izaya and caused a mass power outage within the vicinity due to the water tower crashing into the electrical lines. Orihara Izaya, either feeling responsible or completely bored, paid for the damages and decided to have dinner in the Kishitani-Sturluson-Ryuugamine household.

Heiwajima-san went home after being bandaged up by Celty, who seemed to have the ultimate soothing effect on him; whether this was because she could no talk or because she was just a calming person in general, Mikado was not quite sure. Yet when he left the apartment (by the stairs, as the elevator door was still lying in the hallway, propped up against a wall), he was significantly calmer, only twitching once or twice as he disappeared down the stairs.

Mikado had been left to take care of Orihara Izaya's wounds.

"Ah, thank you," the teenager said, looking up at Mikado as he sat in front of him and started to clean his bleeding hand. Shinra was in the kitchen with Celty, talking to her as he started on dinner that night. He sounded excited, as if he was expecting something wonderful to happen. Mikado had long ago stopped wondering what Shinra was expecting, as it was never anything he thought.

He nodded quietly, intent on his work to staunch the bleeding.

"I haven't seen you before. Are you a friend of Shinra's?"

Mikado shrugged, putting aside the soaked cotton ball he had and grabbed the salve that he would put on the now-staunched wound so that it could heal without infection.

"Oh, this is Mikado-kun, Izaya-kun!"

"Your little brother, that's right!" Mikado looked up briefly to see red eyes staring at him in interest, and he had to wonder who in Japan had red eyes. Well, really, who had blue eyes like himself? Perhaps he had foreign blood. "But I hear you don't have the same last name as Shinra, is that right?"

Mikado nodded once, putting aside the salve and grabbing the bandages. He started to methodically wrap the material around his knuckles, tight but not too tight, in case of cutting off circulation.

"What is it?"

"Ryuugamine," Mikado finally said, putting a metal clasp on the bandage and putting aside his medical tools, pushing himself upright. "Your hand should be all right now, Orihara-san."

"Ah yes, thank you, thank you," he said, looking at his handiwork before looking at Mikado again. Mikado stared back at him silently, waiting to see what he would say, wondering why he was so interested in talking to him in the first place. "…I hear you're very smart, Mikado-kun,"

"His teacher called the other day to tell us he has the highest mark in his class. We're very proud!"

"I'm sure," he said with a grin, one that made Mikado feel something horribly off with the man. He narrowed his eyes slightly in suspicion, wondering why someone this young could make him feel ill. "But I wonder…are you only academically smart?"

Mikado tilted his head to the side, blinking slowly at Orihara Izaya. What did he mean was he only academically smart? What other kinds of 'intelligence' were there, really? Izaya's grin widened as he leaned forward a bit, his strange red eyes looking into Mikado's equally strange blue. "Tell me, Mikado-kun…are you very good at seeing the 'big picture'?"

"…I suppose."

"So, say I was to give you a few puzzle pieces while keeping the rest to myself and hiding the box with the illustration, would you be able to figure out what the picture was based on those few puzzle pieces I give you?"

"…Most likely." Shinra had tested this once, and it was proven that he _could_, though it was not particularly enjoyable. Mikado did not like the expression on Shinra's face nor the awe in Celty's typed words after the experiment, as it made him feel like some sort of freak. He had been assured that he was _not_ a freak, of course, but the feeling had not gone, and he was pretty sure Shinra was planning another kind of test sometime in the future.

Mikado watched as the grin on Orihara Izaya's face transformed from human to fox.

"How very…_interesting_," he said, straightening up and looking over his head to stare at the wall behind him. "Oh, and Mikado-kun?"

"Yes, Orihara-san?"

"Call me Izaya, if you would." At Mikado's questioning look, he merely smiled in a benign way, making Mikado feel even more uncomfortable; though now that he thought about it, was this discomfort from fear or…something else? "I just have a feeling we will be spending a lot more time together."

* * *

Izaya-san had been right when he had said they would spend a lot of time together.

Mikado still kept up in his studies, spent time with Shinra, Kasuka and Heiwajima-san, and still spent his evenings with Celty. But on certain days he would look out his classroom window to see Izaya-san leaning against the lamppost just outside of his school property, staring directly at him as if he knew where he was. At lunch hours he'd run out to where he was standing, wondering why he wasn't in school and why he would be at his.

Izaya-san liked to ask him a lot of questions.

"How old are you, Mikado-kun?"

"I turn eleven in a few months."

"Where are you from?"

"A country area, but I can't remember the name. I left when I was young."

"Why do you live with Shinra and that black rider?"

"They took me in when I came to Ikebukuro."

He never talked about Celty, if he could help it, as he felt that Celty did not want Izaya-san to know about her. He also tried to avoid talking too much about himself, what happened in his past, and why he was in Ikebukuro in the first place, but that was more for personal reasons than anything else. He knew that Izaya-san knew he was holding back information, but he had the feeling that Izaya-san did not mind much. Izaya-san seemed to want to learn about people by himself by digging into places he did not belong. He reminded him of a kind of cat then; a creature that thought highly of itself, and does not care where it is not supposed to go as it will just go where it pleases.

He wondered if Izaya-san's curiousity and mild self-importance ever got him in trouble, and then he would think of Heiwajima-san and his constant trying-to-kill Izaya-san. Not that Izaya-san seemed to mind; he seemed to enjoy pissing off the other teenager.

Izaya-san, as well as asking him questions all the time, tried to get him interested in things outside of school, like what was happening in Ikebukuro, rumours and legends all centred on the area. He did not need to try very hard to get him interested in things; though he lived in the city, he did not know much about it outside of what Shinra and Celty had told him.

It was Izaya-san who introduced him to colour gangs.

They had gone to a park after school, when Shinra was called in by his father (who was in town) to do some 'extra' studying' and Kasuka was busy reading scripts for his school play (he was fond of acting these days). Heiwajima-san he did not see unless he was with his brother, so it wasn't that odd that he didn't meet him after school. Mikado had not, at first, understood why they were at the park, though he did remember it from his very first day in Ikebukuro almost five years ago.

He had just walked up to the fountain he had walked along that first day when a group of teenagers pushed past him, sending him a brief glare before going on their way. He noticed, just as he had back then, that they all had scarves, hats or some article of clothing that was the exact same colour. This particular group was blue. He stared at them with curiousity, more curiousity than he had felt for anything within his life in Ikebukuro outside of the mystery that was Celty (who was slowly becoming known to him since that night on his birthday). He jumped when he felt Izaya-san's hand drop onto his shoulder.

"You shouldn't mess with them, Mikado-kun, they're a dangerous lot."

"Who are they?"

"You mean you don't know?" Instead of looking surprised, Izaya-san just grinned as if he had gotten his Christmas presents early. "Why, they're the notorious Blue Squares of course! They're a colour gang who have control over this area of Ikebukuro."

"Colour gang?"

"Really, and you live with Shinra?" Izaya-san laughed, sitting on the fountain and patting the spot next to him. Mikado sat down after him, looking at him with curiousity. "Colour gangs are really popular in the city, especially in Ikebukuro. They're groups of people who come together for a certain goal; whatever that goal is depends on the gang and its leader. Now, to differentiate who is in what gang, as there's a lot of them around here, they all wear certain colours that belong solely to that gang. So there are gangs like the Blue Square, the Red Herrings and the like. Usually they have their colour somehow integrated into their name."

Izaya-san paused at this point, thinking to himself before smiling a little. "I have an acquaintance that is like a branch section of the Blue Squares named Kyohei Kadota. He's a quiet guy, doesn't really stand out much and he's not really all that violent. But if you get him angry or you hurt one of his guys the last thing you'll see is a smile." Izaya then smiled, though it was foolish and clown-like, causing Mikado to snort in amusement. "Like this!"

"You know, Izaya-san, if you want me to take you seriously at all you are going to have to stop being so foolish."

"You wound me, Mikado-kun. How could you think I'm foolish?" Mikado simply stared at him in the way he always looked at Shinra when he asked why he thought he was so strange. It did not have the same effect on Izaya-san that it did on Shinra, though, who was usually cowed by the stare. Izaya-san just seemed amused.

"Anyhow, the Blue Squares have been in charge of this section of Ikebukuro for a long time now, and no one's bothered to try and oppose them." He rested his chin on his palm, elbow on his crossed knees as he looked out at the park, staring intently at the group of people in blue. "I wonder what it would be like, for them to have a little opposite, ne, Mikado-kun?"

Mikado turned to look at him, intent on asking him what he meant when he paused, narrowing his eyes at Izaya-san's expression. It seemed like he was plotting something, and he wasn't sure if he liked the idea or not.

Izaya-san plotting just seemed like a bad thing.

* * *

On Mikado's eleventh birthday, Shinra finally got around the setting up the computer he had gotten for his ninth birthday. The day was spent quietly with just family, as Kasuka had a dress rehearsal, Heiwajima-san most likely forgot, and Izaya-san said he was meeting up with a friend about something important. Mikado did not mind spending his birthday with just Celty and Shinra, as it meant that for once his birthday would be a quiet affair with little fanfare and no broken furniture/doors/windows/etc. (The overall cost of his birthday this year would be significantly lower than past years, which was nice.)

After dinner and cake and presents (a book from Celty about the Dullahan, which was what she was and a cell phone from Shingen and Shinra so that he could contact them if he was going to be gone for a while and needed to tell them), Mikado went to his room and, after reading the instructions, turned on the computer for the first time.

It was interesting, learning about the inner workings of his computer and the internet and the World Wide Web. He enjoyed going to different sites, typing in keywords to search engines, finding online chat sites, art sites, literature sites and sites with information he had never known before. He gloried in the online encyclopaedias, the websites dedicated to information on events in history, people, manga and anime, the sites where he could find merchandise to buy and to sell.

Overall, Mikado fell in love with the internet like so many before him.

It had been when he was exploring a website where people around the world could talk to one another when he saw something that immediately caught his eye. It was one of the people talking, telling someone about how he had to do homework that he had no interest in.

It wasn't that he knew the school he went to, or even that he thought the person was whining for no reason other than they were lazy. He knew the speech the person was using. He recognized the way the person talked, even though they were online.

Without really thinking about it he made an account on the website and went back to the conversation to see the person he recognized sending out a request for someone to help him with his homework, as he was doomed if he didn't have it finished for tomorrow.

_Tanaka Taro_: What's the subject?

_Bakyura_: It's English. I'm /horrible/ at English! Wait – do you think you can help me?

_Tanaka Taro_: Probably. I'm decent at English.

_Bakyura_: Tanaka-san, you're a lifesaver! Let's go on a private chat so that we don't clutter the forums, all right?

_Tanaka Taro_: Sure.

A window suddenly popped up on the screen over the chat he had been in, and he looked to see that it only had their names in the board. So that was a private chat. He'd have to look up how to do that after he checked to see if this was the person he thought it was.

_Bakyura_: Okie-dokie! So, Tanaka-san, I have to do this sheet for school tomorrow and if I don't have it done my teacher is going to flay me. Think you can help me?

_Tanaka: _What are the questions?

_Bakyura_: Mostly it's translating words from Japanese to English. I'm okay for the most part, but there are a couple of words here that I /just/ don't recognize and I need to have the entire sheet done.

_Tanaka Taro_: Can I have the words please, Bakyura-san?

_Bakyura_: Sure~! They're [Hospital], [University] and [Museum]. I kind of recognize them, but I just can't figure it out! Haha, I must seem totally uncool.

Yeah. It was the person he was thinking about. He smiled a little bit as he looked at his English-to-Japanese dictionary, finding the words before he typed out the answers to the other person. After they were done that, he stopped him from leaving with a question.

_Tanaka Taro_: I'm sorry to seem so sudden, but did you know someone named Ryuugamine Mikado when you were about six years old?

_Bakyura_: …Hey, I did! I haven't really thought about him for a long time. He ran away after his parents died. I lost contact with him. He was a good friend. Quiet and shy, and really sensitive about his name – seriously, his name is really pretentious sounding, isn't it? But it's neat at the same time – but I pretty much considered him a best friend. Why, do you know where he is? !

_Tanaka Taro_: Haha, I do.

_Bakyura_: Where? ! I totally want to meet up with him again!

_Tanaka Taro_: Really?

_Bakyura_: Yeah!

Mikado sat back, looking at the words and wondering if he should actually reveal himself. He seemed like he meant what he had said though. Shrugging to himself, he put his hands back on the keyboard and began typing.

_Tanaka Taro_: He's going to attend middle school in the fall. Right now he's in an elementary school that is close to Yagiri Pharmaceuticals. He's in class A. Really smart.

_Bakyura_: I've heard about the genius in class A – I go to the same school – so wait, that's Mikado?

_Tanaka Taro_: Haha, it is.

_Bakyura_: Wow~! So how do you know him, Tanaka-san?

_Tanaka Taro_: ...Uhm…because it's me.

He watched as the other person stayed quiet, and he felt like his stomach was plummeting. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he wouldn't believe he was telling the truth. Maybe he should have just stayed out of it.

_Bakyura_:…Mikado?

_Tanaka Taro_: . . .

_Bakyura_: Σ(ﾟДﾟ) MIKADO! I can't believe it, how did you find me? ! Where have you been? ! Why haven't you tried to contact anyone from back home? ! Do you know how crazy I was when they said you ran away? !

To say he was surprised would be an understatement. Mikado was completely floored by the response he got from his long-lost friend. He then smiled fondly, though with a sad feeling to it, and typed the only thing he could think of.

_Tanaka Taro_: I missed you too, Kida-kun.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So, I know I said I would not update New Years Day. But I also recall saying I had a _schedule_, and, well, that just didn't work out as planned did it? I have my reasons, and I'll share them just so you know I'm not a procrastinating bum. So on the Wednesday I was supposed to update, there was a black-out. And for the next three days we had ridiculous winds where I live, causing me to be a bit nervous about going near the computer. So I did not update. On Christmas, I spend time with my family. And I was supposed to update that Sunday. I forget I like to play around with my new goodies after Christmas, though. So why didn't I updae Wednesday after that? Well, that actually _was_ laziness on my part. Laziness and a brief case of writer's block. I was going to wait until it was properly Sunday, but...I figure I've made you guys wait long enough. So this is my apology chapter. You'll note it's longer than the others by a lot. You'll also note that things are really starting to kick-start. Mikado is going to go through his years slowly now. Chapters will be longer, there will be less year-time-skips. We've passed 'prologue' and gone into 'content'. So I hope you enjoy the upcoming chapters and this one!

P.S. Yes, there's a smidgeon of romance in here. No, that does _not_ mean that is the pairing. It may or may not be the pairing. Just warning you now.

Disclaimer: Durarara! belongs to its respective copyright owners.

* * *

They properly met for the first time during their winter break.

Though they had been talking online ever since they had found each other, they had not had time to actually meet at school. Kida always busied himself with something after school while Mikado went home to do homework, surf the internet and spend time with his family and friends. So when the winter break came up, freeing them of their school duties for a little while at least, Mikado had made the suggestion that they get together and catch up on each other's lives. Kida had immediately agreed.

They arranged to meet at the park where Mikado's life had started and where Kida told him he liked to go to think. Mikado had gotten there early, sitting on the rim of the fountain and looking at the kids running around the park, their parents keeping a close eye on them. Some of the Blue Squares colour gang members were sitting far off to the side, out of the way but watching to make sure no one threatening tried to take their territory from right under their noses. It was chilly out, so Mikado was wearing a thicker jacket than he normally would; in his pockets were some gloves just in case he needed them.

He didn't notice someone come up to him until a hand grabbed his shoulder. He jumped, slipping out of the hand and turning around quickly in an avoidance move Izaya-san had showed him during some of their walks together. He then looked at the person before him, staring at him uncertainly.

The boy was his age, with light coloured eyes and an easy smile. He had dark brown hair that fell into his eyes, and he wore a white sweater with a dark blue jacket over it and some jeans. Overall, he looked normal enough. Taking a closer look he recognized the tilt of the smile, the sharp flash of the eyes, and he knew then and there that this was Kida Masaomi, his best friend from the country.

"Kida-kun?"

"Haha, it is Mikado! You haven't changed a bit!" Kida grinned, placing his hands on his hips as he stood on the fountain rim. "Though I will say you're much faster at getting away from people. Where'd you learn to move like that?"

"A friend of mine," Mikado answered immediately, for some reason sensing he should not talk about Izaya-san with Kida-kun. There was a strange feeling in his gut telling him not to mention the older boy's name.

"Ah, Mikado doesn't trust me!" Kida-kun staggered off of the fountain, holding a hand to his chest. "Whatever will I do? My long lost friend won't even tell me who he knows? How am I to cope?"

"Yup, you're Kida-kun all right."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Kida-kun looked at him with a grin and an accusing stare, showing Mikado he wasn't actually angry. Taking this into account, Mikado simply shrugged and smiled at him innocently.

"It means you're still corny, and that you haven't changed a bit."

"Sure I have!" Kida-kun defended, walking over to Mikado and slinging an arm over his shoulders. They walked down the park sidewalk then at a leisurely pace, acting as if they always did this while inside Mikado was revelling in the fact that he was with his friend again after so long. "I mean, I'm much more attractive now, and I've gotten way popular! All the girls at school love me!"

"I heard you got hit by one of the girls last week for saying something inappropriate."

"Lies! All lies!"

Mikado raised an eyebrow sceptically, causing Kida-kun to grin. "All right, so maybe I did say something. She overreacted."

"Oh, Kida-kun…"

They spent their time together simply talking, learning what the other had done for the past years. Mikado held back a lot of information, like who exactly Celty was or who Heiwajima-san and Izaya-san were to him. Kida-kun would talk about the legends and people he'd learned about in the city, from the Black Rider to the monstrous Heiwajima Shizuo to the sly Orihara Izaya. If Kida-kun knew he spent his days with these people, was raised by some of these people, he wasn't sure how his friend would treat him. He enjoyed the comfortable atmosphere around them, enjoyed the familiarity and the ease in which Kida-kun spoke to him.

He did not want to lose that.

By the time it was getting dark, Mikado had received a text from Shinra asking if he was going to be home in time for dinner. "Ah, I have to get going, Kida-kun; I have dinner soon."

"Oh, all right," Kida-kun smiled, stepping back and folding his hands behind his back. "We'll have to meet up again sometime at school! Oh! What middle school are you going to go to?"

"The one in association with Raira Academy. I want to go to that high school when the time comes. You?"

"I'll be going to a different school, sad to say." Kida-kun smiled sadly, shrugging before he grinned. "We'll just have to hang out on holidays and free days! We could even meet up during our lunches!"

Mikado grinned glad that even though they were going to go to different middle schools, Kida-kun still wanted to spend time with him. Kida-kun then asked for Mikado's cell phone number and after an exchanging of numbers and a test to make sure they got the right ones on their respective phones, Mikado left Kida standing at the crosswalk.

When he reached the apartment, he saw an extra pair of shoes at the front that he recognized as Kasuka's. The older boy hadn't been to the apartment lately, so Mikado was instantly curious as to why he was there. Slipping off his shoes and putting his coat away into the closet, he walked into the apartment to the sitting room, where he saw Kasuka sitting on the couch, watching with a vague expression as Shinra and Celty (her helmet on) played a racing game.

The younger Heiwajima looked over at Mikado as he entered, and a slight tilt of the lips showed that he was happy to see his young friend. Mikado gave a tiny smile in return, moving to sit next to Kasuka.

"Hello Mikado-kun,"

"Hello Kasuka-san. What brings you here?"

"I have a play coming up in a couple of days, run by a theatre group that I've volunteered to work with during break. They'll give me the experience I need for anything concerning acting that I'd like to do in the future. I got a small role in the play they're producing." Mikado nodded, paying attention to Kasuka. He rarely spoke this much unless it was about theatre; he seemed to really enjoy it. After a moment of looking at the TV screen with the racing game, Kasuka looked back at Mikado and tilted his head to the side in thought. "I was wondering if you wanted to go."

"What's the play about?" Mikado asked, leaning his chin on his palm as he waited for his answer. Kasuka gave that tiny, barely-there smile, taking Mikado's interest as his positive answer, before he started to explain it.

An hour later, Kasuka went back home and Shinra made oden for dinner, as just like the day, the night had turned colder than it had been the past couple of days. "Winter must be upon us!" Shinra said with a smile, looking up to see Celty sitting with Mikado, helping him with some of his homework. He couldn't help but smile at the sight, turning back to pay attention to his cooking (as Mikado would've told him to do if he had been paying attention to Shinra…not paying attention).

"I wonder if any winter romances will happen?" he said to himself then, quietly so that the other two wouldn't hear him as he smiled.

He had a feeling _something_ was going to happen.

* * *

Something did happen, but not exactly as Shinra had thought of it.

Instead of a romance or even something remotely pleasant, news spread like wildfire that the Blue Squares were beaten by a mysterious, new gang in Ikebukuro. Mikado had heard about the news when he was out Christmas shopping with Shinra and Kasuka, trying to figure out what to get Celty for the commercialized holiday.

"Did you hear about it?"

"About what?"

"About that gang fight just the other night! These guys just suddenly appeared and challenged the Blue Squares who usually hang around the park."

"No way!"

Mikado turned away from the little snow globe he had been looking at that had Tokyo Tower inside of it, paying more attention to the conversation two coworkers were having in the little odd-and-ends shop. They didn't seem to notice the young boy listening with rapt attention.

"It was so weird. My boyfriend saw it all. He said that they were all like, middle school kids or something. But that when the Blue Square guys just laughed them off one of them just punched the guy straight in the nose and sent him flying!"

"Now I really don't believe it. Middle school kids, beating up a bunch of big thugs like that?"

"It's true! My boyfriend videotaped it and sent it to my cell phone! Here, I'll show you."

One of the girls fiddled with her vest for a moment before showing her phone to her co-worker and apparent friend, playing a video down to the lowest volume. Yet though Mikado could neither hear nor see the video, he knew what the girl was saying was true from the other girl's surprised gasp.

"That's insane! Do you know what they're calling themselves?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's got to be a new Colour Gang. After all, no one else would be stupid enough to challenge the Blue Squares. Everyone else got destroyed within the last few years by their strength."

"My boyfriend didn't give me a name."

"Excuse me, but may I give you lovely ladies some information?"

Mikado jumped at the same time the two girls did, all three looking to see Izaya-san standing there with a vicious smile on his face. Mikado frowned a bit at the expression, knowing it looked completely at ease and relaxed right now. That's what made it unnerving. No one should be that happy when talking about a possible new, powerful gang in Ikebukuro.

"The gang you speak of is a brand-new gang, just formed over the last week or so. The leader, I hear, is a charismatic man. They called themselves the Yellow Scarves."

Izaya-san then looked up to stare straight at Mikado, his smile sharpening a slight bit. "It seems as though the Blue Squares finally have some worthy competition, ne?"

And with that, as predictable as it was of him, Izaya-san left with a light wave and a 'bye bye!', leaving the girls in awe and Mikado feeling like the last thing that was said was directly said to him. He knew that Izaya-san had commented before that the Blue Squares needed a little opposition, but he didn't get the feeling that the Yellow Scarves were made by him. Sure, he was charismatic, but he was also not in middle school.

He turned back to the snow globe, noticing for the first time that Shinra was talking and that Kasuka was looking at him with what one could probably call a worried expression. He shrugged off the younger Heiwajima's concern and instead turned his attention back to Shinra, who was explaining that Celty was extremely fond of things like teddy bears and flowers, even if she never did admit it. All the while his mind was still on the conversation the girls and Izaya-san had had, wondering what the puzzle pieces Izaya-san had obviously given him meant.

* * *

Christmas was loud, as if making up for the fact that his birthday had been quiet. Heiwajima-san, Kasuka, and Izaya-san had all been invited (by Shinra), which meant that Mikado would sit by the sides with Celty and Kasuka, watching as Heiwajima-san and Izaya-san chased each other around the apartment with Shinra laughing on the sidelines.

Mikado had gotten a few manga he had been looking at from Kasuka, a new hard drive for his computer from Shinra, a camera from Shingen (who had mailed his gifts from America, the place he was at currently, a week before), a scarf from Heiwajima-san (Kasuka admitted that he had picked the scarf after the gifts were opened) and a book on other Irish fairytales from Celty. From Izaya-san he had gotten, strangely, a knife.

"Everyone should have one," Izaya-san had explained when Mikado had looked at him in confusion. "Now you have a cell phone, a computer, and a knife! You are thoroughly prepared for anything Ikebukuro throws at you." He had then promised to show Mikado had to properly use the knife before the contents of the freezer were thrown at him, courtesy of Heiwajima-san who had lost his temper for the fifth time that night due solely to Izaya-san's voice.

It was while Mikado and Kasuka were setting up the table for dinner that the strangest thing in Mikado's young life had happened to him.

Now, one might think that with the life Mikado had lived so far, nothing would be strange. After all, his adoptive mother was a Dullahan missing her head, his adoptive brother was training to be something of an evil scientist, and one of his friends had monstrous strength while a friend that was more mentor than friend was a highly intelligent somewhat evil teenager. In fact, the only normal people in Mikado's life were Kida-kun and Kasuka, and even they had their quirks about them.

Yet this was the strangest thing to have ever happened to him. This was new and weird and alien, and he wasn't sure what exactly to make of it.

That was because, when he had turned to Kasuka to ask him to pass the plates, the slightly older boy had, in turn, bent down and pressed his lips against Mikado's.

Mikado stood there in shock, blue eyes wide and mouth opened slightly as Kasuka looked back at him with that usual vague expression that barely showed what he was feeling half the time, let alone what he was thinking. Just as he was getting his wits about him again, Kasuka pointed up to the ceiling and Mikado looked up to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging there innocently, unnoticed to the eleven-year-old until that moment.

When he looked down to ask Kasuka why he had followed through with the silly tradition, the other boy was already gone and the table was set, plates and everything.

Ryuugamine Mikado was not sure what to make of this sudden development.

* * *

Mikado had excused himself during the Christmas movie to stand out on the balcony and get some fresh air, still slightly jumbled from the event from earlier. He had pulled on a coat and some slippers, leaning against the metal bar of the railing as he stared up at the stars above him, watching the blinking red lights of a plane that he knew hundreds of children looking out their windows that night thought was Rudolph from Santa's sled. Though Mikado himself did not believe in the story of a large man carrying presents for children across the world, he thought that the idea was nice. It was why he hadn't told any of his classmates who still believed in him that it was all fake.

After all, who was he to know if Santa Claus didn't _really_ exist? He was sure Celty wasn't supposed to exist either, but there she was.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when the door opened, and he turned to see Kasuka stepping out onto the balcony, a warm jacket and slippers on his feet. He watched as he closed the door quietly before making his way to Mikado's side, looking out over the dark city landscape, eyes captured by the glowing lights of Ikebukuro. "…It's nice outside."

"Yeah,"

They fell quiet after that, both looking in their respective directions; Mikado up, Kasuka down. Finally, Mikado looked over to Kasuka and asked what he had wanted to earlier before Kasuka had disappeared.

"Why did you kiss me?"

Kasuka looked back at him, giving him a contemplating stare, before he shrugged a shoulder and looked back out at the city.

"The mistletoe."

"That's a weak excuse. You don't _have_ to kiss someone under the mistletoe." Mikado narrowed his eyes slightly at his friend, sensing the older boy didn't want to tell him something. "Why did you really kiss me? Please don't lie, Kasuka-san. That would be insulting my intelligence."

"And you're a very smart boy," Kasuka said gently then, looking over at him with that tiny, there-but-not-really smile he often gave to Mikado or his brother. Mikado could not recall a time he had ever seen that smile aimed for anyone other than Heiwajima-san or himself. "I'm sure you can figure it out if you think about it for a moment."

Mikado frowned at the vague answer, so much like the vague boy, before he turned to look at the sky again. It only took him a moment to realize what Kasuka was saying.

"Do you like me, Kasuka-san?"

"Yes," Mikado jumped at the quickness of his answer, looking over at him again to see Kasuka giving him that strangely intense look he sometimes got. He had received it the first time they had met, and then only a handful of times afterwards. He had never understood it then. He was older now, though. He understood it now.

"Why?"

"Mikado-kun is incredibly smart, and very pure," Kasuka said then, looking back up at the sky. "Quiet, but you'll talk to people if you have something to say. There's a loneliness in your eyes that speaks of a past pain or loss." He paused then, looking back at Mikado. "Mikado-kun is broken. It makes you pure; it makes you perfect, because you're not perfect. You've been damaged by something, and that makes you who you are." He sighed then, looking away.

"I admire you very much. You're strong for someone so young. I've always seen you as strong. Shinra-san and Niisan agree with me that you're a strong person. Maybe not physically, but emotionally." He tucked some hair behind his ear then, looking back out over the city. "I'm not expecting anything from you, Mikado-kun. I know you're only eleven, almost twelve. I know that you probably don't care to have a relationship right now. I can wait." He turned to look at Mikado then, smiling again that little smile. Mikado suddenly understood why he was able to see it along with Heiwajima-san.

"I'll wait for your answer for however long you need to think about it. I'm a very patient person."

"You'd have to be, to be able to handle Heiwajima-san."

Kasuka gave a soft huff then, one Mikado recognized as a laugh, and the older boy ruffled his hair as he had the first day they met before turning back to the apartment. "Shall we go in? I think they're going to start worrying soon. Either that, or Niisan will try and kill Izaya-san again."

"Right," Mikado nodded, following the older boy back into the apartment. His mind felt much clearer.

* * *

The New Year happened without event, as it was just a small family thing. After that, school had begun again and Mikado had busied himself with his studies as he always had, with the addition of learning more about the Yellow Scarves and learning how to fight with Izaya-san.

He was not exactly sure why Izaya-san wanted him to know how to use a knife as an offensive and defensive weapon, but he did not ask the older teen as he knew Izaya-san would not tell him the whole truth. Izaya-san was like that; though he knew all sorts of things, you earned that information through a sort of system, like a shop. You paid for the information. Mikado did not want to actually pay for anything, so often more than not when he asked Izaya-san anything he got half truths that he had to figure out on his own. He didn't mind it, though. He found the challenge of finding the truth in the lie to be enjoyable, like he found the challenge in his advanced math classes to be enjoyable.

The Yellow Scarves, however, eluded him and that bothered him more than anything. He could not learn anything from the people on the streets, and he was too wary to actually ask a member of a Colour Gang if they knew anything. He might be learning how to use a knife, but that did not mean that Mikado wanted to have to use it against someone. He was very anti-violent, most likely because of his own past. When Izaya-san learned of his unease towards actually hurting someone, he found it oddly amusing.

"Mikado-kun, you're so strange! You want to know about a Colour Gang, but you don't want to actually ask anyone in a Colour Gang because you're afraid to get hurt?" Izaya-san shook his head, looking at Mikado as they stood in an abandoned parking lot opposite of each other. Mikado was holding his knife with the reluctance he always did, Izaya-san holding his with an eerie ease. "If you're going to ask about dangerous things, you have to be ready to be put into danger."

"But that seems foolish. Why go into danger when you can figure out other ways to find out dangerous information? Research does not always have to be hands-on."

"You're very book smart. I think it's time you start being real-life smart, too." Izaya-san smiled then, that smile that always unnerved Mikado slightly, before he lunged forward in that snake-like way of his. Mikado watched with calculating eyes, thinking of all the possible movements Izaya-san could do in the short distance between them.

He thought of their little 'skirmishes' as a game of chess, or checkers, or even Go. He wanted to try and get into his opponent's brain, to try and figure out how they would move before they actually moved. Though very 'book smart', as Izaya-san called it, he knew it was effective as, when Izaya-san decided to feint to the left and then swing his knife in a backhand style towards his right side, Mikado moved accordingly and blocked in time to push him back. He jumped back a few times, putting distance back between them and Izaya-san grinned, standing up and looking at him with narrowed eyes. "You think of everything like a puzzle," he said then, cocking his head to the side. "You would be a general, or some sort of commander. You would make all the plans, think of everything, and then send others into the field while staying safe on your horse."

"Is there something wrong with that?" Mikado asked with a curious head tilt of his own and a quick smile. "I like staying safe. I don't want to be hurt if I can't help it." He then looked at his knife for a brief second: the sharp edge, the glint of metal, the feel of the handle in his hands, all shiny and polished and still very new. "Izaya-san would be like a spy."

"A spy?"

"You put yourself right into the danger, but you act like you belong in it. You would pretend to be a part of the danger, to blend in as if you were always there."

"Perhaps," Izaya-san smiled. "I think Mikado-kun is judging me much too easily. There are many layers to a person."

"Like a puzzle?"

"Maybe. But I don't think people can be so easily solved after a moment of thought. We're much more complex than puzzles. We're like…illogical abstract art. Like those cubes you see where the structure doesn't make sense, or those large canvases with huge, bold stripes of red and black. The meaning is lost to the viewer, but there's a meaning behind it. People have a meaning behind their existence, too. Though no one knows the meaning of a single person, as it's been lost in the many complex layers that make up a human."

"Then you believe there's an artist, like a God, who creates humans for a greater purpose, and then doesn't explain the greater purpose?"

"I don't know about Gods," Izaya-san said with a grin. "I'm not too sure about higher powers, Heaven or Hell. I don't like thinking too much about what happens after death, because that's selfish, isn't it?" Mikado looked at him in confusion, wondering what he meant. "I mean, if you're dying, or you want to die, you want to die. You want to stop existing. Those who think of a Heaven, or of a purgatory, or even of 'what happens after death' are too concerned with their existence. They want to make sure they stay _existing_, and that's not the point of death. Death is to _stop_ existing. Other things after death exist, but _you_ don't."

"Izaya-san, you sound like you've thought of this very much."

"I like thinking about it. It's fascinating." Izaya-san smiled, looking up at the sky as if he were reading answers in the clouds. Mikado looked up as well, wondering if he would see anything he hadn't before. "But it's not the concept of death that I find interesting. It's other peoples' opinions on it. I like hearing what other people think. I like hearing what others wonder about, or question, or think that they know." He laughed then, and Mikado shuddered a bit, looking at Izaya-san as he held his arms out around him, as if spreading some imaginary wings like a fallen angel. "Do you want to know why, Mikado-kun? Why I care so much about what other people think?"

"Why?"

"It's simple, really," Izaya-san said, leaning his head back further. He looked like he would be praising a God or embracing something mystic if it weren't for the fact that they were in an abandoned parking lot. "I love humans."

Mikado stared at him for a moment, watching as he grinned and spun in a circle slowly for a moment. He then shook his head, sighing inaudibly.

"You're so weird, Izaya-san."

* * *

He had thought of the perfect solution to his lack of information gathering during gym.

Mikado had had to sit out because he'd managed to twist his ankle the day before (avoiding Izaya-san's very _realistic_ attack against him. He swore sometimes Izaya-san was actually trying to kill him) and so he had been forced to watch his classmates as they played volleyball. He had been watching them, listening to everything going on in the gymnasium. The acoustics in the gymnasium were some of the best within the entire school, and so he could hear everything. He heard the calls of teammates as they yelled 'Mine!' 'Over here!' 'Spike it!' 'Get that!'; he listened as students milling around him spoke about what they did on the weekend, who was dating who, what was happening in a different district of Tokyo. It kind of reminded him of the internet.

And that's when he remembered his little friend the internet.

Schools were like little packets in a vast world of information. It collected information quickly and spread out information like downloads and torrents. Rumours spread like viruses, poisoning the system and causing people to react funny towards another, sort of like a computer seizing to work properly. Classrooms, the gym, lunch, they were all like chat rooms; chances for people to gather and share what they had heard throughout the day or the week, to hear others' opinions and learn different stories they had yet to hear or to clarify rumours as true or false.

What if he were to create a group, or an organization like a school, to collect information? Sort of like a Colour Gang, but _online_?

He thought about it for a long time after the initial thought, wondering how it would work out. There would be certain rules, like in any vast chat room or in schools; rules everyone inherently knew and didn't break because they couldn't be bothered. Like not being insulting towards each other, or not to spread spam, or to not try and get internet sex out of chatters.

If he were to control that, then it would have to be some sort of group people were _invited_ to, but he didn't want to limit it that much. He wanted vast areas of information. So he could send out a specific amount of invitations, and then hope for the best. He didn't think he'd be able to do this alone, though. There'd have to be a group of people, kind of like administrators.

"But I wouldn't want it to seem like someone's in complete control and giving orders," he muttered, frowning as he looked down at his Math equations sheet. He scanned the questions and answered a few quickly so the teacher thought he was working. "To get information, there needs to be certain bounds, yes…but it can't be completely controlled. Information cannot be controlled that easily; it'll just simply slip through cracks you're unable to prevent." He scratched his forehead with the eraser of his mechanical pencil.

"A Colour Gang…without rules or restrictions, maybe? I'd be putting a lot of trust into the people that join it, but…maybe that's how it should be done. Maybe that's best. Rules are easy to ignore if you don't like them." This was easy to tell from the length of skirts on some girls who had not liked the knee-length restriction. It wasn't like you could completely control how a student dressed if fifty others along with her are dressed the same. But without _any_ rules or restrictions? He thought about that for a moment, wondering how that would work.

"I suppose…if I were to give the basic rules of 'be courteous to one another, no spam, and no inappropriate behaviour', I could just…leave it. Let it grow on its own. Like a community or something. Communities are always given their own general rules, and then they're just left alone. Same with schools. Same with online communities. It'd be a community, a 'Colour Gang', but it wouldn't be a conventional one. Colour Gangs are much stricter, and they have a recognizable leader. No one should know who the leader of this is. It should just be…kind of there. Just a melting pot of information with everyone adding things in." He paused, rubbing his eyes before standing up when the call was given. The class bowed the teacher out, before collecting their things as it was the end of the school day.

Putting his things meticulously into his bag, he wondered what colour his 'Colour Gang' could be. He paused in putting away the last of his textbooks, thinking back over his own musings. "…If the leader shouldn't be recognizable…then neither should the colour. It should just be there, should just exist without anything holding it. A Colour Gang without a colour." He smiled at the oddity of it, his smile turning into a grin as his idea started to root into his mind, feeding off of his thoughts like some sort of welcomed growth.

"I like it."

* * *

When Mikado got online that night, he went onto a chat room he had become fond of. On it were people he had become close internet friends with, all of them friendly and easy to talk to. Once greetings were over, he proposed the idea of a colourless Colour Gang.

_Genki_: A /colourless/ Colour Gang? What kind of organization would this be, Tanaka-kun?

_Tanaka Taro_: It wouldn't /really/ be like a Colour Gang. It would just be like, a chat room or something. Some place where information can be shared with everyone. Schools, offices, super markets all have people sharing information. But if it's online, and if it's open to everyone, then information from everywhere can gather.

_Mei Ling_: Would it just be a site for information, though? That's limited.

Mikado frowned, wondering why he hadn't thought of that.

_Tanaka Taro_: Well…I guess it could be a site for anything. Information, just chatting, whatever you want it to be. It'd be an organization without rules or restrictions. It'd be really free. You could do whatever you wanted, and not fear consequences. There are general rules, like there is on here, but after that it's everyone's game.

_Genki_: So it's not really anything. It's like a neat club that doesn't do the meetings.

_Tanaka Taro_: …yeah, I guess. Is it not a good idea?

No one spoke for a while, and Mikado was afraid that his idea to get information and have a little fun at the same time would be shot down. He had thought so much on this, had seen all the ups it could bring! He could learn about things with this that he couldn't from just his select group of friends! But if no one else wanted to help him, how could he make it work? He couldn't do this alone. And he definitely did not want to ask Shinra or Izaya-san to help. Maybe Celty, but she seemed busy as it was. He wanted this to work, almost _needed_ it to work. He wanted information so much, but he didn't want to risk his own neck to get it.

_Nakura_: I think it sounds like a fun idea! I mean, Colour Gangs are cool, right? But you don't want to actually associate yourself with a gang with a colour, as then you could be in danger! Other gangs could attack you! But if you were going to be in a Colour Gang /without/ a colour, then you wouldn't have to wear a colour! You could just act like you always do, but at the same time you can tell people you're in a Colour Gang! A Colour Gang gives you a certain amount of protection, and if /anyone/ can join this gang, no one outside of the gang will know who is in it and who isn't in it. People would be hesitant to hurt someone if they don't know where or who their allies are.

Mikado smiled as he read what Nakura-san had to say, glad someone was seeing what he meant. It was like they had discussed this together, but he knew that wasn't it. Nakura-san was always smart, though.

_Nakura_: Also, if it's without rules or restrictions, even people who frown on the Colour Gangs wouldn't find anything wrong with it. Most Colour Gangs with rules have certain expectations. They need to protect their territory and fight off their rivals. But a Colour Gang without rules wouldn't have these expectations. And since there wouldn't be any real meetings, no one's life has to be disrupted. It's actually perfect for anyone who wants to do something interesting but not twist their entire life to do it.

_Genki_: So it'd be like for lazy people like us!

_Nakura_: Aww, Genki-chan, are you saying we're lazy? Mean~!

Mikado couldn't help but laugh then. Nakura-san was smart, but at the same time he was awfully foolish.

_Nakura_: So, Tanaka-kun, what would we call this colourless Colour Gang? And how would we invite people into it?

Relieved that he didn't have to worry about a flat rejection Mikado started to ponder these questions with his friends, everyone giving an idea or a thought towards this little 'project'. He knew that even though he had originally started the idea based on a selfish wish, – a desire for information without putting himself into the line of fire – the idea for his colourless Colour Gang was going to end up being something more. He didn't mind that, as they spoke more on it, it wasn't turning out exactly like he had planned. It would still serve the purpose he wanted it for, but at the same time it would be more appealing to everyone and not just people like him.

That, he thought, was something special.

* * *

Life continued on.

Mikado, after a long few nights talking to his friends on the forum, created a webpage for the colourless Colour Gang 'Dollars'. Nakura-san had thought of the name from the sound that some people used when they weren't particularly doing anything: 'dora-dora'. This sounded like the English word 'Dollars', and so instead of calling it something odd like 'dora-dora', they decided to use the English word. They, as the creators, would know exactly what the name meant. Others who would join would have to try and figure it out.

Once the webpage was made, he shared the password with his friends, who then started to anonymously send out texts and e-mails to others in the city of Ikebukuro. Mikado watched as, day by day, someone new would accept the invitation and log into the website to see their name on the list along with other, anonymous people. The forums were slowly filled up with people first exclaiming their amazement at the fact that such a site existed, to people starting to talk to one another. Some people talked about their everyday life, sharing their boring stories along with others. Some looked for people to talk to, as they couldn't talk to anyone else where they were. Others still shared rumours and whispers they'd heard at work, or on the street, or in the classroom. Lots of people were curious as to the purpose behind Dollars, but slowly they realized that the purpose was whatever they wanted it to be.

Mikado thought it was kind of similar to that conversation he had had with Izaya-san, how people were complicated things with layers, their purpose lost within the layers. Dollars' purpose was lost within the layers members created for it. Like art, or people, it had a purpose unique to every member. Some saw it as a clubhouse where they could talk to friends. Some people used it like a forum, just to talk and share stories. Others still used it as a kind of meeting place so that they could plan things out with others who had similar interests.

He watched it morph. He watched it change. He watched it slowly become something bigger and better than he had originally envisioned. And he was glad that he had created it, as it seemed to be something everyone enjoyed.

Outside of the internet, nothing really changed. The mysterious Yellow Scarves continued to gain power, Izaya-san continued to teach Mikado how to use his knife, and he still did his homework and spent time with family and friends. His grades were still the top of the class, he still heard stories about Kida-kun's silly antics, and he still went online every day to see what was going on in the world outside of his world. His twelfth birthday passed with little fanfare, Celty giving him a new, better cell phone and Shinra giving him a new computer screen, as his old one was out-of-date.

Summer passed them quickly, Dollars growing by the day. Slowly information outside of Heiwajima-san's strange strength and the mysteriousness of Celty and her bike turned to information about the strange Yellow Scarves. Who were they? Had anyone heard anything about them? Why did they form? Who was the leader? Mikado kept close tabs on these conversations while spending time with Kida-kun, finding a part-time job at the bookstore he and Shinra often frequented and preparing himself for his entrance to middle school.

The testing itself he had done near the end of the year had been simple, in his mind, and so he had been easily accepted into the middle school of his choice. The uniform that the school used was similar to Raira Academy's, except it was a dark green instead of a light blue. Mikado found that he did not mind the fact that he still had a uniform. Kida-kun had commented that he had wanted to go to a public middle school because he wouldn't have to wear a uniform then, as he hated uniforms. Mikado found uniforms to be comforting; they gave you a sense of pride in your school, but also made it so people did not stress over what they would wear to school. Everyone wore the same thing.

It was near the end of summer when something other than the Yellow Scarves took over the forum and the news on TV.

Mikado was eating breakfast when Celty suddenly came into the sitting room, which was connected to the kitchen, and turned on the TV to the news station. At first ignoring his adoptive mother's strange behaviour, he turned back to the television when he heard what the reporter was saying.

"…apparently the work of robbers, the only one to survive the terrible massacre was the 11-year-old daughter, Sonohara Anri. Somehow the girl had been unseen by the assailant, leaving her to be the only witness. However, she claims to have not seen anything. Doctors suspect post-traumatic shock while some speculate that the girl had known the murderer. Whatever the reason, there is now a dangerous person in the city. People are asked to stay inside after 6 o'clock in the evening and under no circumstances are they to leave the safety of their homes until the perpetrator is caught. If anyone sees anything or anybody suspicious, they are asked to call the police station so that the authorities can look into it. Do not, under any circumstances, go look into the suspicious thing or person yourself as it could be dangerous. In other news…"

Mikado watched at the pictures of the crime scene, filled with blood and two dead bodies, left the television. Celty turned off the news as the man started to talk about something to do with the weather, turning to look in Mikado's direction.

He wondered if she was worried he would revert to his own history with violence in the home. He wondered if she was worried he was going to have some sort of episode or violent shock.

He smiled to reassure her.

"Scary, isn't it Celty-san? Please be careful when you go out tonight."


End file.
